Problems
by becauseYOLO
Summary: She dealt with them by hiding. He dealt with them by flying. They both had something in common. T for swearing
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, so this is my first fic so please be gentle. No flames, constructive criticism. This was sort of a YOLO thing so I don't mind if you don't take it seriously.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

* * *

She sighed as the light summer breeze caressed her face and smiled into the wind, eyes closed, relishing the warm sunlight. It had been a while since she was so relaxed and Merlin, she had missed the feeling more than she realised.

But Hermione knew she was lucky to even be able to feel this calm considering the past year. But now, she could finally breathe. No one believed she would be able to laugh for a very long time. Hermione couldn't blame them. She was thinking the same. The smile faded as she recalled the past events.

_"Ron, how could you?"._

_"Hermione! I swear, it isn't what it looks like! I was drinking and she came onto me-"_

_"I don't give a shit about what went down last night. I'm not gonna waste my breath on you. You're fucking liar and you have no right to speak to me again."_

"Wait, Hermione! I love you and-". He didn't even finish the sentence before she had pulled out her wand and hexed him, resulting in a wart-covered Ron running from his own bogies and a screaming Lavender Brown with a pig's tail. And she would've done much worse if it weren't for her blasted self-restraint. But she might've also kicked him in the balls. Might have.

A lot had changed since. Ron and Hermione's engagement was off and he was free to shag as many sluts as he wished. That also meant permanent exile from the Weasley clan and every single one of their friends, plus constant bombardment of Howlers from fans of the famed Golden Trio and nosy reporters like Rita Skeeter (what a skank) always asking for interviews.

But that also meant Hermione was swarmed by media whenever she went out, they were practically camping on her freakin' lawn for Merlin's sake! She managed to get by for a few months with the support of the Weasleys and Harry and Neville and Luna and Hagrid and Dean and Seamus and the Patil twins and, well, basically everyone until Ron was sighted with a new slag on his arm and the media went crazy. Again.

So, instead of having to put up with all the crap, she left. Far away from the city and into the countryside where literally no one, with the exception of a few people, knew where she was. As far as everyone else was concerned, Hermione Granger had disappeared off the face of the planet. There were rumours of suicide and that she had run off to Venice or that she had migrated to the underground, but in reality, she was still alive and well, living in a small cottage with Crookshanks that was hidden with wards.

She had her own massive garden with basically every single vegetable, herb and fruit growing in it and would send Ginny over to the market with bags of Galleons to by other essentials, like meat for her, because honestly, who could live without precious meat?

And through it all Hermione's heart remained broken, almost beyond repairable. Because she had truly loved Ron, with all her heart. According to him, he had felt the same way. Well he sure had a funny way of showing it. On the many visits she had received from Harry and Ginny, she had heard he was asking for her. Well screw that, he could shove his apology up his horribly disfigured ass (courtesy of a furious Ginny).

And slowly but surely, her heart had begun mending.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was a flyer. You could call him coward or a ferret or even a Death Eater, but no one would deny him the title of a flyer.

And as the wind whipped up his robes, stinging his face and weaving through his hair, he flew. He flew away from his life, away from the city, away from his troubles and he just flew.

And as he flew, the familiar feeling of nostalgia rose up inside of him. He had missed flying. It was only yesterday that he had gone, but he missed it anyway. He dreaded the moment where he would have to turn back and get of his broom and so basked in the moment while he could.

He couldn't complain about his life. It was, in all aspects, a good one. He had moved out of Malfoy Manor and in with his longtime childhood friend, Blaise Zabini. He was finally free of his banshee of a girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson and his relationship with his mother Narcissa had progressed into something resembling a mother/son relationship.

His father was in prison. He was working as an Auror. Not many people were judging him based on the past, even tough some would always think of him as a a Death Eater at heart. He had changed and no longer paid attention to blood status. He was friends with Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. He had worked so hard to get where he was. So what was he flying from? Oh yeah, backtrack a four or five points and right there, you'll see "father in prison". Well not for long.

As much as he and Harry had tried to prevent it, Lucius Malfoy was being released from Azkaban in as early as 3 months. 3 fucking months until Draco would see him again. And then he had the rest of his life to look forward to with Lucius looming over him. Fan-fucking-tastic.

So of course, Draco dealt with it by flying. Blaise told him he shouldn't run from his problems. Harry had told him the same thing, even though he was the one who got Draco back into flying. Even Draco knew he should confront his problems. But it was always so much easier to run. So run he did. And he didn't regret it for a second.

When he decided to stop and hover for a moment, wiping the sweat off of his brow, the adrenaline fading, he looked out over the beautiful lake he had stopped by. It was out in the countryside and he had also been flying since 7am, it was already three hours after midday. The sunlight reflected off the shimmering water and the nearby trees swayed in the breeze.

It looked empty so he was more than shocked to hear music drifting up from below.


	2. Chapter 2

_Are you going to Scarborough fair_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Remember to one who lives there_

_She once was a true love of mine_

Draco almost fell off his broom. What-who was that? And was that a-a harp?

_Tell her to make me a camric shirt_

_Parsley, sage rosemary and thyme _

_Without no seams, nor needlework_

_Then she'll be a true love of mine_

It took a minute for Draco to realise he was still hovering. Touching down, he sat down against a massive oak tree and listened.

_Tell her to buy me an acre of land_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Between salt water and the sea strands_

_Then she'll be a true love of mine._

Later, Draco would look behind the tree and see who was currently tugging at his heart strings. Later, he would be so shocked he would choke on his own saliva. But now, he closed his eyes and smiled, revelling in the beautiful sound.

_Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_And gather it all in a bunch of heather_

_Then she'll be a true love of mine_

_Are you going to Scarborough fair_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Remember to one who lives there_

_She once was a true love of mine_

He almost cried when it was over. He just sat there, dumbstruck, wishing he could listen all day long. After a moment, he came crashing back to reality, only to find that the problems he had been running from had caught up with him.

He shook the thoughts from his head and made his way over to the other side of the oak tree.

As a child, Hermione had always loved that song. Her mum would sing it to her, lulling her to sleep.

Then, as a gift from Luna for her 22nd birthday, she received a harp. Ron had laughed at the massive instrument and told her to throw it away. Instead, she hid it in their basement with a glamour.

In the six months she'd been alone, Hermione had practiced and practiced six hours a day, seven days a week and in her defence, it was the perfect way to get her mind off Ron.

And she'd always loved singing. Ron would complain how she sung in the shower, in the kitchen while cooking, to James, to the radio, basically whenever a few select people were around, everyday.

_He hated everything I do,_ she thought bitterly. _Ginny always liked it, at least. And it got James to sleep. Why am I even thinking about that asshole? I'm already over him! _

She sighed and checked what time it was. She would only allow herself a few hours a day to relax out in front of the lake where there were no wards, for fear of being discovered. But today, she felt extra drained and decided to take another hour off to just lay there when she saw Draco Malfoy gaping at her from the other side of her favourite oak tree.


End file.
